


The Maison Blanche Incident

by hentailobster



Series: The Ongoing Case Of Ricky Goldsworth [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: 1930s, Detectives, Gen, Supernatural Elements, vague depictions of violence but not very graphic bc i can't write that properly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 12:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18249791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hentailobster/pseuds/hentailobster
Summary: Detective C.C. Tinsley has been sent on a case that's pretty much a vacation and exactly what he needs. Of course, we all know things can't end up that simple





	The Maison Blanche Incident

 

The train left the station in a cloud of smoke, accompanied by the sound of its whistle. The passengers inside were settling down, putting their luggage on the shelves if they’d brought any, or leaning back in the not all too comfortable seats, hoping to get some sleep on the ride next to the people who’d come with the train from previous stations. It had passed four stations already, most recently the city Port, where most people had gotten on. Before it, only around ten people had been on the train, and only one of them had been from its first station- a somewhat lanky man who’d fallen asleep the moment he boarded the train in Old York. 

 

Detective C.C. Tinsley of Old York’s police department hadn’t had much to do in about half a year. The axeman hadn’t shown himself again and the murder of Dean Sawyer proved to be no less difficult to solve. Tinsley had been chasing down every trail, but always found himself one step behind the killer. It was frustrating, especially when he had a somewhat clear idea of who it was. 

 

Of course, the face of a man only he and a few others had met wasn’t much to go off. Nor were the man’s two names, or the letter he’d left Tinsley. Tinsley had probably read it a hundred times, trying to find anything useful, and failing to do so each time. By now it was almost routine. A routine that had messed up his sleeping schedule beyond recognition. Not that it had been perfect to begin with, but it was still for the best that he got some sleep. At least for his health. As for the investigation, this particular nap was nothing short of a dreadfully unlucky coincidence. 

 

C.C. Tinsley snored peacefully as the train stopped in a small village by the charming name of Ditch. Here, a group of people got on, most notably a shorter gentleman in a long, dark coat. Any observant bystander would have noticed him stopping for a moment when he spotted the sleeping detective, but as it happened, none of the passengers were particularly interested in keeping eyes on a shorter gentleman in a long, dark coat. Not even as he took a few, careful steps towards detective Tinsley and picked up the ticket lying in the pocket of his discarded jacket. The shorter gentleman looked at the piece of paper and smirked, then put it back and sat down in the seat behind detective Tinsley. 

 

 

 

Tinsley was woken up by the conductor telling him they’d arrived at the final stop. The train was empty by now, most people in a hurry to get off. They had taxis to catch, friends to meet and hotels to get to. Seaside was, after all, mainly a vacation town. Its rocky beaches and white stone houses made for an idyllic setting no matter the season. It was insanely popular with families and lone travelers alike. 

 

C.C. Tinsley was not there on vacation. 

 

Even if, he thought as he wearily made his way off the train, he could probably use some time off. He could always check for a more pleasant hotel during his stay, since the one he’d booked only provided the most necessary. Of course, it was a matter of cost. The rickety building adorned with a sign that simply read ”Hotel” might not have been luxurious, but it was cheap and, most importantly, lurking just in the shadows of a way fancier hotel. Maison Blanche was a beautiful building, overlooking the sea and the especially idyllic parts of Seaside. It was, from what Tinsley had gathered, the place to be if you were rich and looking for excessive ways to spend your money. So, considering who he was currently after, he couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. 

 

The case of Jack Simmons was a nice breath of fresh air, something to take his mind of R. Goldsworth, if only for a while. It was nothing complicated, just a serial bank robber. He’d only passed through the bank of Old York, but luckily for Tinsley he’d left enough evidence on that particular scene for Old York’s police department to have reason to send someone after him.

 

Tinsley got his key at Hotel’s front desk and carried his meagre luggage up the narrow staircase. His room was in the end of a not all that long corridor, along with three others. From the two first he could clearly make out the sound of the people living in them. One seemed to be occupied by a lone traveler and the other by a couple, if the noises were anything to go by. Tinsley tried to ignore them as he opened the door to his room, taking a moment to listen to the room opposite his before closing the door. It was completely silent, so most likely empty for now. That was understandable. Hotel wasn’t any more charming on the inside than on the outside. Tinsley’s room was almost narrow enough for him to touch its two longer walls at the same time when he raised his arms. Most of it was occupied by the bed, a seemingly antique thing that creaked the moment he tried to sit down on it. Besides the bed there was only a stool and two identical doors in the room. One led to a closet that smelled just odd enough for Tinsley to decide not to unpack his suitcase, the other to a cramped bathroom. 

 

All in all, not a very luxurious room, Tinsley thought as he laid down on the bed with a creak loud enough to drown out the sounds of the couple next door. If only for a moment. He propped himself up on one elbow and turned to the window, which had an excellent view of one of Maison Blanche’s many balconies. On it, a woman was standing, enjoying a glass of wine. Even from his current position, a barrier of glass and about fifty meters away, Tinsley got the impression that it was an expensive brand. The way the woman sipped it just gave him that vibe. 

 

Seeing, however, as she was not Jack Simmons, Tinsley didn’t keep his eyes on her for long. Instead he opened his suitcase and dug through it for the case file he’d brought with him. 

 

It was pretty full. There were a bunch of eyewitness records, as well as a few photographs. One of them showed Jack Simmons clearly, as he was leaving Old York’s bank, and another him checking into the Maison Blanche, taken by a detective from Seaside. 

 

Really, Tinsley’s job was quite simple. He didn’t have to gather any more evidence, just walk in, inform the owners of the situation and apprehend Simmons, in a best case scenario without the help of the local police force. Not that there was anything wrong with them, it was just much simpler for Tinsley if he could handle things himself. 

 

He looked over the photos again and picked out the one of Simmons at the bank, before leaving his room. As he locked his door he noticed someone was rummaging around in the room opposite his. Figuring a new guest had arrived, he didn’t think much of it as he left Hotel. 

 

 

 

The owner of Maison Blanche, a man by the name of René Bernard, was very understanding of the situation, if a bit nervous. 

 

”I truly am sorry, detective Tinsley” He paced across his office ”I truly am. Had I known _monsieur_ Simmons was such a vile man, I’d of course have informed you immediately” 

 

”No, no, you don’t have to apologize” Tinsley smiled reassuringly ”If you could just help me out for the next few hours, that would be great” 

 

”Of course. Yes, of course. What would you have me do?” Bernard stopped his pacing, and started fidgeting with his sleeves instead. 

 

”Really, all I need is his room and to borrow a telephone when I’ve arrested him”

 

”I’ll get that sorted” Bernard nodded ”As soon as I can, I’ll get it sorted for you, detective. I truly cannot thank you enough” 

 

”Just doing my job, sir” Still, it was nice to be thanked, Tinsley thought. 

 

”Nonetheless, I’d like to reward you somehow” Bernard pondered for a moment, before his face lit up ”Say, how would you like to attend tomorrow night’s festivities? We’re hosting a masquerade ball, with nothing but the most exclusive-” 

 

”’Nothing but the most exclusive’ is a bit too expensive for me, I’m afraid” Tinsley wasn’t exactly underpaid, but he felt like simply walking in through Maison Blanche’s doors had cost him half his salary ”Though I’m honored by the invitation” 

 

Bernard looked confused. 

 

”You’ll be attending free of charge, of course. In fact, I’ll pay all your expenses” Bernard looked pleased with handing out free attendance to a party that was supposed to be exclusive ”I’m the owner, after all, and I’m sure all my guests will be thrilled to meet the genius detective Tinsley” 

 

”Genius is an overstatement” Tinsley didn’t mind it, though ”But if you insist, I’l make sure to be there”

 

”Excellent!” Bernard smiled widely ”Festivities start at seven pm. Let me know if you need to borrow a mask” 

 

”Ah yes, you said it was a masquerade. I’m afraid I’m not entirely prepared for an event like that, so if I could borrow something, that would be great” 

 

”I’ll see to it!” Bernard promised ”Now as for the room you’re looking for…” 

 

 

 

Simmons was put in cuffs and taken to Seaside’s jail in less than two hours. A trifle, as Tinsley had expected, which left him with a seemingly endless weekend to spend in the lively town. 

 

He started by strolling around for a few hours, for the first time in half a year with no clear goal or mission. The town really was nice, though. At this time of year, with summer just around the corner, the weather was a pleasant temperature, and the ocean breeze meant Tinsley could still comfortably wear his standard dress shirt and pants. 

 

The town center was full of tourists, and just short of being too crowded for Tinsley’s taste. At least he could see where he was going, being taller than a majority of the people around him, and apparently that meant it was easier for people to spot him as well. 

 

”Detective Tinsley!” Someone yelled from behind him. He stopped and turned around to find a young woman pushing her way through the crowd towards him. At first he didn’t recognize her, but then again he’d only met her briefly. And at the time she’d just gotten out of Dean Sawyer’s basement for the first time in three weeks. 

 

Joan Porter was looking…much better than she had at the time. Her dark, curly hair had really grown out, and the scar across her upper lip did nothing to take away from her sweet and, most importantly, genuine smile. Tinsley didn’t think he’d seen her look anything but understandably terrified for the few hours he’d known her. 

 

”Miss Porter” He returned her smile, with a polite bow ”How are you feeling?” 

 

Miss Porter took some time before answering. 

 

”Better” She finally sighed ”Still not…good. But better” 

 

”I’m glad to hear that” 

 

The two were silent for a while. It wasn’t awkward, exactly, just the kind of silence where Tinsley got the impression that both of them had a lot going through their heads at the moment. 

 

”So anyway” Miss Porter finally broke the silence ”How come you’re here?”

 

”Oh it’s standard stuff” Tinsley waved his hand dismissively ”Crooks to arrest. Or, well, I’m done with that now. So it’s pretty much vacation” 

 

”Well that sounds lovely” Miss Porter’s smile was back. 

 

”What about yourself?” 

 

”Nothing but work” She said ”I’ve gotten the opportunity to perform at a very fancy party. It’s the first time I’ve sang in…probably a year, I think” 

 

”Well that sounds fantastic” Tinsley had a sneaking suspicion of where this performance was going to take place ”Where is it?”

 

”Maison Blanche!” Miss Porter looked positively giddy ”It’s a really expensive hotel” 

 

”Well then I’m sure you’ll fit right in. I’ve heard it’s-” Tinsley slipped into René Bernard’s french accent ” _Nothing but the most exclusive,_ after all” 

 

”You met mr Bernard too?” Miss Porter looked surprised. 

 

”Yeah I had to enlist his help with finding my perp in that gigantic hotel of his” Tinsley laughed ”Apparently that merited an invitation to the party” 

 

”Well that’s splendid!” Miss Porter clasped her hands together ”You’ll get to see me sing then! Will detective Morris be there too?” 

 

Tinsley blinked in confusion. 

 

”Detective Morris?” He repeated. 

 

”Yes, I was certain I saw him around here earlier, but I must have lost him in the crowd” Miss Porter cast a glance at the clock tower standing over the square and gasped ”Oh, but I really must be going now. I’ve got a rehearsal in half an hour” 

 

”Well I better not keep you occupied then. Good luck” Tinsley smiled, and waved as miss Porter headed in the direction of Maison Blanche. She waved back. 

 

”Say hi to detective Morris from me, will you?” She shouted. Tinsley smiled, and kept his eyes on her, even if what he really wanted to do was check the crowd immediately. 

 

”Will do!” He responded. And, well, that wasn’t a lie. Of course, he was fairly certain it wouldn’t be anyone with a name even resembling Morris he’d send those regards to. An unknown detective that only miss Porter had met was…highly suspicious, to say the least. And the fact that she’d said she’d seen him in the crowd made Tinsley a little on edge. 

 

He didn’t stay at the square for much longer after that. At first he wandered around it for a while, but as he suspected, it was impossible to notice if anyone was following him with all the people around. So he made his way back to Hotel as the sun started to set. The streets got emptier the longer he walked, making sure to take long detours through more vacant parts of Seaside. If R. Goldsworth realized he knew he was there, it probably didn’t matter much, anyway, so more obvious tactics for finding out if he was being followed weren’t off the table.

 

By the time he got back to Hotel it was completely dark, and he could clearly make out the footsteps following him. 

 

Tinsley stopped, and so did they. He walked for a while longer, before turning around to face his pursuer. 

 

He paused, before he could say anything. 

 

The person he was now facing wasn’t R. Goldsworth. It was a woman. The Maison Blanche cast its shadows over her, leaving most of her features obscured, but Tinsley could still make out a cascade of blonde hair. The woman didn’t move. Not as Tinsley stared at her for what felt like ages, nor when he slowly backed towards Hotel’s door. Once he got inside he cast a glance over his shoulder and found that she was still standing there. Unmoving.

 

Tinsley quickly made his way up the stairs to his corridor. His neighbors were all quiet, probably having gone to bed already, so Tinsley made sure not to make any noise as he walked towards his room. He fished his key out of his pocket and was about to put it in the lock when he heard a dull thud. For a while, he stood completely still and just listened, but didn’t hear anything else. 

 

Still, one could never be sure enough. Tinsley reached for his pistol and held it steadily in his right hand as he put the key in the lock with a soft click. Then, as fast as he could, he swung it open and aimed straight ahead at…

 

Exactly who he’d expected. 

 

”Whoa! Calm down, Tinman” R. Goldsworth raised his hands in a defensive pose ”I’m not here to hurt you”

 

”You know I find that a bit hard to believe, mr Goldsworth. Or do you prefer Rossini? Or Morris?” Tinsley didn’t lower his pistol a millimeter.

 

”Please, call me Goldsworth. Birth name or not, I’ve gotten pretty attached to it” Goldsworth took a careful step forward, but stopped once he realized Tinsley wasn’t showing any signs of taking the pistol out of his face in the near future.

 

”Well then, Golden Boy” Tinsley said ”What brings you here? And, more importantly, how did you get in?” 

 

”Picking locks isn’t hard” Goldsworth shrugged ”And I’m just here to see my old friend. Or, enemy of my enemy”

 

”Aha” Tinsley nodded ”Let me guess, room next door?” 

 

”Yup” Goldsworth looked way too proud of himself as he continued ”But I’ve got a suite at Maison Blanche as well, so I’m not planning on staying here longer than necessary”

 

”I’ll imagine it’s quite nice” 

 

”Oh it’s excellent. Nothing but the most exclusive-”

 

”Yes, yes, so I’ve heard” Tinsley interrupted Goldsworth ”As for my next question: why are you _here_? In Seaside?” 

 

”Can’t a man enjoy a nice vacation?” 

 

”I genuinely don’t think you can enjoy anything” 

 

Goldsworth rolled his eyes. 

 

”I’ll have you know I’m deeply enjoying this little ’abnormally sized cat and way more clever mouse’- thing we’ve got going on. It’s been fun” 

 

”Not for me” 

 

”I never said that” With a smile, Goldsworth sat down on the bed. Then he gestured towards Tinsley’s pistol ”Will you _please_ get that out of my face? Your arm must be getting tired by now” 

 

It was, but Tinsley wasn’t about to admit that, so he kept the pistol raised for a few seconds, in which the two of them were completely silent, before finally lowering it. He put it back in his holster and leaned against the doorframe, effectively blocking Goldsworth’s way out. Goldsworth noticed, of course. His eyes darkened for a moment, but his smile didn’t falter. 

 

”Not letting me out?” 

 

”Not until I know why you’re here” Tinsley crossed his arms ”Last time we ran into each other it ended with you killing someone” 

 

”He had it coming” Goldsworth said calmly ”Wouldn’t you agree, detective?” 

 

”See here’s the thing, I don’t think you care” 

 

That shut Goldsworth up. Once Tinsley was sure he wouldn’t get a response besides Goldsworth staring at him, he continued.

 

”Take Sawyer. You went in, slit his throat and then found miss Porter but didn’t actually let her out” That had puzzled detective Lynham to no end. Tinsley could still hear him wondering why the killer would have left miss Porter alive, when she was chained up and unable to defend herself ”If you’d been there to save her, that would have been your first priority, and if you were in a hurry and didn’t have the time you wouldn’t have had the time to give her a fake name either. So, what I’m thinking is that you like having the perceived moral high ground, you just don’t care for the actual morals involved. Whatever your thing is for getting to say they earned it is just a bonus to go along with the actual killing. Am I right?” 

 

Goldsworth took some time before responding. 

 

”I’m impressed, detective Tinsley” For the first time of the evening it looked like he meant what he was saying ”And you are right, in a sense. But the rules I set for myself are a question of personal safety as well” 

 

”Do elaborate” 

 

”It’s simple” Goldsworth’s eyes got a dangerous gleam to them ”Less chance of me getting caught if I restrict myself” 

 

Tinsley didn’t flinch. He kept still, despite his mind telling him about a hundred different things at the same time. _Run away. Shoot him. Keep him here. Run away._

 

”Yeah” Tinsley drew the word out ”But I’ll bet you enjoy the challenge of killing someone equally as deranged as yourself” 

 

”Cherry on top” Goldsworth’s grin widened and he got up from the bed ”Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my room”

 

As Goldsworth got closer the impulse to run away got stronger. But Tinsley didn’t move until he was looking down, directly into Goldsworth’s dark eyes. For a moment, he didn’t even breathe. He felt like if he lost this staring contest, he’d be losing something far more important. The game they were playing, perhaps. 

 

The town square’s clock chimed, and the moment passed. Without a word, Tinsley stepped aside to let Goldsworth pass. 

 

 

 

Tinsley laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling. He couldn’t sleep. 

 

For nearly an hour, he’d been going through the memory of his talk with Goldsworth, analyzing every single detail over and over again. There was something about how relaxed Goldsworth had been that put him on edge. It was the type of calm that came with confidence, as if Goldsworth was certain he’d already succeeded with whatever no-good he was up to. Or at least, like Tinsley wouldn’t be able to stop him, no matter how hard he tried. 

 

Boy, if that wasn’t frustrating. Tinsley sat up and swung his long legs off the bed. The floor was cold, and he shivered as he walked across it, stopping by the window to look out over the dark city. The square still looked like it wasn’t entirely abandoned, and in some houses there were still lights on. This included Maison Blanche, where it looked like many of the guests were still enjoying the hotel’s undoubtedly broad variety of activities. Or, as in the case of a woman Tinsley noticed, they were off to themselves. 

 

It was the same woman he’d seen when he’d first arrived at Hotel, standing on the same balcony, but without wine this time. She was wearing a dark robe, which swayed slightly in the wind, and her long hair was hanging loose. 

 

Long hair which- Tinsley realized- he recognized. 

 

He’d seen the woman outside, just a couple hours ago. When she’d been following him, to be precise. Tinsley fixed his eyes on her, and kept them there as she moved across the balcony with slow, elegant steps. To Tinsley, it didn’t look like she was up to anything in particular. Perhaps she was waiting for someone? 

 

Suddenly, she raised her eyes and met Tinsley’s gaze. It was as if she’d frozen him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t look away from those piercing, icy blue eyes, not even as the woman smiled in a deeply unsettling manner. The smile never reached her eyes, Tinsley registered slowly. As if his brain was stuffed to the brim with cotton, stopping any rational thought from forming. 

 

It felt like ages passed. 

 

Then, the woman turned around and Tinsley’s shoulders dropped. He hadn’t even realized his whole body had been tensing up. The woman looked like she was talking to someone, then, with a last look at Tinsley that made his breathing stop for a split second, she stepped inside and closed the balcony doors after her. 

 

Tinsley took a deep, shaky breath and found that his legs were unsteady. He almost fell back in the bed, immediately overcome by tiredness. No, _fatigue,_ was a better word. It felt like he’d been running for hours. 

 

Odd, he thought, as he drifted off. 

 

 

 

The next morning Tinsley was woken up by someone knocking at his door. 

 

He sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes, casting a glance at the clock. It showed a quarter to eleven, which was enough of a surprise to jolt Tinsley awake. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that long. 

 

The knocking continued and Tinsley yelled something about being on his way. He threw on the clothes he’d used the day before as fast as he could, then opened the door. Outside was a young boy in a jacket with _Maison Blanche_ embodied on it in elegant, cursive handwriting. He was holding a package. 

 

”Delivery from mr Bernard, sir” The boy said, handing the package to Tinsley ”He said to send his regards, and that he won’t be able to make it to the party tonight” 

 

”Really” Tinsley took the package. It was alarmingly heavy ”Why?” 

 

”He’s fallen ill, sir” The boy didn’t look all too troubled ”Musta caught something tonight”

 

”I see” Tinsley nodded ”Well, thank you for bringing this. Tell mr Bernard I hope he gets better soon” 

 

”Will do, sir” The boy bowed slightly, then turned around and walked down the hallway. Tinsley closed the door and put the package on his bed to unwrap it. 

 

It contained a suit that looked expensive and recently ironed, made from a quite heavy material. Tinsley held up the jacket, eyeing it critically. Most suits seemed to be either too short or too loose fitting for him, and there was a great risk that this one wouldn’t be an exception since it had been lended to him. Worst case scenario he could always take one of his own and still use the mask. It was clearly inspired by historical fashion, if only with a little less ornamentation, giving it a somewhat more sophisticated look. Tinsley was certain that if he knew more about fashion he would be able to tell why this particular mask should go with that suit, but since he didn’t he just presumed mr Bernard, or at least his employees, knew what they were doing. 

 

As he’d expected, the suit turned out to be a little loose when he tried it on. He spent some time looking in the small bathroom mirror before deciding it would have to do anyway and putting it away until the evening. Then he put on some of his own clothes and left his room. 

 

Goldsworth’s room was silent, so Tinsley presumed the man had stayed the night at Maison Blanche. For a while he considered asking mr Bernard about it, but ultimately decided against it since the hotel owner was, after all, sick. The young man sitting in Hotel’s front desk confirmed that Goldsworth had indeed rented a room, just after Tinsley had arrived the previous day, but claimed not to have seen him since. 

 

The day outside was sunny, and Tinsley would probably have enjoyed his walk to the town square if he hadn’t been too occupied with a game of ’spot the maniac’. The first thing he did when he arrived was buy a newspaper, but he didn’t find any headlines about any murders, or even assaults. It looked like it had been a calm night in Seaside. 

 

Of course, one could never be sure about tonight. Tinsley stuffed the paper into his pocket and headed back to Hotel to prepare himself for the party. He could always sneak off when the other guests were otherwise occupied and find Goldsworth. Perhaps he’d even be at the party? Unless of course he planned on being somewhere else entirely, committing acts of unspeakable violence. 

 

Tinsley didn’t want to wait and see, but that’s somehow what he ended up doing anyway. He didn’t find Goldsworth anywhere in town, and at Maison Blanche they wouldn’t let him in while they were preparing for the party. Apparently he needed to be a guest to be able to come and go as he liked, and he started to suspect that was why Goldsworth had chosen to stay at Maison Blanche in the first place. Then again, he could just really like fancy ballrooms and expensive wines. 

 

If he did, Maison Blanche definitely was the right place, Tinsley came to realize as he was finally let in, ten minutes past seven that evening. He hadn’t seen much of the hotel’s common areas when he was there to talk to mr Bernard, so he’d missed out on the truly impressive hall the party was being held in. It must have been more than three regular floors high, and somewhere up there an array of chandeliers glimmered, casting their light over the otherwise dimly lit room. It helped give the occasion a fitting aura of mystique, and accent the stage, which was the most well lit part of the room. It made for a beacon of light in the middle of one of the room’s longer walls, and drew people to it like moths even though the band was just rehearsing at the moment. Miss Porter was yet to be seen. 

 

Tinsley made his way through the crowd to a table of refreshments, took one look at the prices, then immediately turned around. He knew mr Bernard had promised to pay for him, but he had principles, and there had to be a limit to how much a serving of peanuts could cost. 

 

”Nothing you find interesting?” The voice came from behind Tinsley. He turned around and was met by a masked face, surrounded by by now all too familiar blonde hair. Up close he realized to his surprise that the two of them could almost see eye to eye, something that luckily didn’t have the same effect on him at the moment as last night. 

 

”Nothing I can comfortably afford, ma’am” Tinsley smiled, but felt like it came out looking a little forced. The woman’s smile, on the other hand was effortless and charming, a row of perfect, white teeth framed by a red lipstick that was somehow perfectly color coordinated with her dress. Tinsley may not have been an expert, but he was fairly certain that was impressive by fashion standards. 

 

”Now don’t be like that” She softly put a hand on Tinsley’s arm ”I’m sure we’ll find something for you. After all, how can you introduce yourself to me over a glass of wine if you don’t have any wine?” 

 

”You make a convincing argument” Tinsley said. The idea of having wine with the woman made him feel uneasy, but it was a good opportunity to investigate her. So he let himself be dragged along to a bar, and kept silent as the woman chose a drink for him. He only just had time to explain his arrangement with mr Bernard to the bartender before he had to move on to keep up with the woman. She was fast, and slipped through the crowd like it was nothing until she finally found a table she seemed to like, a little to the side of the room. 

 

Tinsley sat down opposite her on one of the high stools and she handed him his drink, then took a sip of her own. 

 

”So” She began ”You must be the detective” 

 

”That’s right” Tinsley didn’t touch his drink ”Though I suppose you’re not supposed to know that. What with this being a masquerade and all” 

 

The woman laughed. 

 

”No, I suppose not, but I like to know who I’m talking to” 

 

”So do I” 

 

”Right, of course” The woman extended a hand ”Bella Doroftei, at your service” 

 

”C.C. Tinsley” Tinsley took her hand. It was cold. 

 

”Ah, yes, so I’ve heard” Ms Doroftei let go of Tinsley’s hand to take yet another sip of her wine ”You really should try your wine, darling. It’s quite delicious” 

 

Tinsley took a sip. It tasted horrible. He took another sip. 

 

”You’re right” He said ”It is delicious” 

 

Ms Doroftei smiled. Tinsley took another sip. 

 

He was probably drinking too fast. 

 

”Now” Ms Doroftei leaned forward slightly ”I was wondering if you have any exciting detective stories to tell me. Perhaps in my room. It’s much calmer there” 

 

”I’m going to have to politely decline” Tinsley _had_ wanted to investigate ms Doroftei further, but he drew a line at going anywhere alone with her. He wasn’t sure why. He took another sip of the disgusting wine. ”I’d love to spend more time with you ms Doroftei but-” 

 

”Please” Ms Doroftei waved her hand dismissively ”Call me Bella. And do drink some more wine” 

 

Tinsley finished his glass, definitely way too fast. 

 

”Well ms- Bella, ma’am” He blinked, trying to clear his mind ”As I said I’d love to come with you-”

 

”So why not” Bella really liked interrupting, it seemed ”Come with me. Come to my room. We’re going to have a _marvelous-_ ” 

 

”Am I interrupting something?” It was Bella’s turn to be interrupted. By a voice that Tinsley recognized, and which belonged to a short man in an elegant costume and a black mask. 

 

”No. No, not at all” Tinsley felt like smiling at Goldsworth, so he did. Damn wine. 

 

”Great. Tinman, I need to borrow you for a moment. So if you’ll excuse us” The last bit was directed at Bella, whose mood seemed to have darkened considerably. Before she could respond, Goldsworth had grabbed Tinsley by the arm and violently yanked him away from Bella.

 

Tinsley wasn’t entirely sure when he’d stood up. 

 

Goldsworth dragged him through the room, to a secluded corridor. It was empty save for the two of them and filled with art that Tinsley would have loved to get a closer look at if it hadn’t been for Goldsworth continuing to drag him through the corridor until they reached a pair of glass doors. Goldsworth unlocked one of them, opened it without letting go of Tinsley, then unceremoniously shoved him out on the balcony. Tinsley stumbled slightly, but finally managed to find his footing by supporting himself on the railing. 

 

Of course, that didn’t last long since Goldsworth grabbed his shoulder, spun him around and gave him a swift punch to the jaw. 

 

Tinsley fell to the ground with an offended yelp. 

 

”What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Goldsworth asked before he could say anything. 

 

”Getting punched in the jaw by people half my height, it seems” Tinsley muttered, rubbing the punched jaw in question. 

 

”This isn’t the time for jokes, Tinman” Goldsworth snarled. Actually _snarled_ ”I’m not gonna ask you again. Punching, however, isn’t off the table unless you answer my question” 

 

”I’m _here_ ” Tinsley stood up with surprising confidence considering the movement made his head spin ”Because I heard there’s an insane person at this very hotel, and that he might be out for blood” 

 

”Funny you should say that, because I heard that’s none of your god damn business” 

 

”It’s absolutely my god damn business because- and I don’t know if you remember this- I’m a _detective_ ” Tinsley took a few steps forward, so that Goldsworth had to look up to see his face. That felt good ”Stopping serial killers is part of my job” 

 

”And you think you can stop me?” If Tinsley were to describe Goldsworth’s smile he’d say it was what a personification of a death threat would look like. 

 

”I know I can” Tinsley said, sounding more confident than he felt. But Goldsworth didn’t have to know that. 

 

Goldsworth kept his eyes locked with Tinsley’s, and didn’t say anything in response. Tinsley did the same. From inside the hotel the sounds of the band starting up could be heard faintly, soon joined by miss Porter’s voice. Tinsley didn’t recognize the song she was singing, but it was pleasant. A melancholic tune that blended with the sounds of the city’s nightlife and the waves hitting the cliffs far below them. 

 

”Like the music, Tinman?” Goldsworth asked. 

 

The pieces fell into place. 

 

”You’re after miss Porter” Tinsley said, matter of factly.

 

”Who’s to say?” Goldsworth grinned and took a few steps back, out through the open door. Realizing what was about to happen, Tinsley threw himself after him, but was too late. The door shut with a click and Tinsley could only watch as Goldsworth gave him a final wave, then calmly strolled back towards the party. 

 

_Fuck._ Tinsley tried forcing the door open, but it wouldn’t budge. _Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck._

 

He stepped back to the balcony’s railing and looked up. There was a downspout not too far from the balcony, so if he stretched as far as he could he would probably be able to reach it. The question was where he would go. He needed to get in somewhere, so an open window was preferable. 

 

_There._

 

Slightly to the left and about two stories above him, it looked like a large window had been opened. Before he could worry too much about his upcoming climb, Tinsley swung his legs over the balcony’s railing and reached for the downspout. When he held onto the railing he could almost reach it. His fingers brushed against the cold metal, but he couldn’t get a proper grip. 

 

Tinsley took a deep breath, let go of the railing and after what couldn’t have been more than a second, but felt like forever of not having anything to support him, he hit the downspout with his open palms and could shift his weight to it. When he had a proper grip he carefully moved his left leg off the balcony, and fumbled with it below the pipe for a few seconds before finding footing on a window frame. His right leg followed and finally, he was pressed to the side of the building, feeling the wind tug at his hair. 

 

The next window was above him, and Tinsley had no time to lose. He grabbed one of the slim pieces of metal keeping the downspout in place and carefully tested its durability. It should be able to support his weight. Probably. Tinsley reached for one above him and found that it, luckily, didn’t break. It was a little hard to find his footing against the side of the building, but he managed and soon fell into an awkward, but functional pattern. Soon, he’d reached the first window and paused to rest his arms for a moment. Out of curiosity, he cast a glance down and immediately regretted his decision. The side of the building seamlessly transitioned into the cliffs supporting it, meaning the drop down to the water below grew considerably longer. Terrifying as it was, it made for good motivation. Tinsley swallowed and continued his climb. 

 

The open window was about as far from the downspout as the balcony had been, Tinsley realized once he reached it. The only difference was that it being open meant he had something to hold on to, which was welcome. With a final effort, Tinsley grabbed the window with both hands and edged himself across it, finally finding support on the windowsill and tumbling inside with movements that were admittedly not all too graceful. 

 

Tinsley hit the floor with a thud and stayed there for a moment, trying to regain his breath. The room he was in looked like a bedroom, and far too personal to be one of the hotel’s rooms. It was spacious, and held a large bed. At the moment, the lights were out, but Tinsley doubted that turning them on would make much of a difference, since dark wood seemed to be a running theme in the room. Red fabric, matching the covers currently pushed to the foot of the bed, also appeared in many parts of the room’s decor, such as the carpet and the curtains. 

 

It was getting quite sweaty under the mask, so Tinsley removed it, then stood up and slowly walked over to the bed. He could hear breathing coming from it, and presumed he was about to have to explain why he was there to a complete stranger. Upon closer inspection, however, it seemed it wasn’t a stranger at least. In the bed was mr Bernard, fast asleep.

 

Tinsley had known the hotel owner was sick, but the sight of him shocked him nonetheless. Mr Bernard really looked dreadful. Pale as death, and with a towel pressed to the side of his neck that didn’t fully cover up the nasty-looking wound beneath it. It wasn’t big, but it looked irritated, at least to Tinsley. 

 

Deciding it would be a bad idea to disturb the sick, he stood up and made for the door, but was halted halfway when he heard a noise outside. It was followed by three sharp knocks on the door, and then a familiar voice. 

 

”Let me in, darling” Bella Doroftei said. Tinsley heard mr Bernard stir, and quickly made a decision. There was a wardrobe not too far from the door, that didn’t look like it’d be all too cramped, and Tinsley just managed to get himself in it before mr Bernard was fully awake. The hotel owner dragged himself out of bed and walked across the room. Tinsley could hear his heavy footsteps and then a click as the door was unlocked. 

 

”Come in, dearest” Mr Bernard mumbled. Tinsley held his breath and listened to the two of them head back to the bed. It creaked, presumably from them laying down, and then- after a moment of complete silence- came the instantly recognizable sounds of kissing. 

 

Well, it wouldn’t be a dramatic enough evening without a romance involved. Tinsley didn’t mind, he was of the opinion that what people got up to with their own spare time did not concern him as long as it didn’t connect to his detective work, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of being stuck in a wardrobe while two people he barely knew got- judging from the noises- _incredibly_ sloppy. Tinsley never thought he’d be happy to hear the voice that made the two stop, but at the moment it did come as a relief.

 

”Am I interrupting you?” R. Goldsworth said. He didn’t sound too startled by the scene he’d walked in on. 

 

Mr Bernard and Bella didn’t respond. But it didn’t sound like they were continuing either. If Tinsley had to guess, the people in the room were probably staring at each other, trying to decide what to do next. 

 

Whoever first sprung into action did it fast. Tinsley just barely had time to register the sound of someone getting out of the bed, before something hit the wardrobe with a loud crash. Tinsley tried to open the doors, but they wouldn’t budge, meaning whatever had hit the wardrobe was currently blocking the doors. 

 

There was a whooshing sound, and then a pained grunt from Goldsworth. A series of thuds against the wardrobe doors followed and Tinsley tried once again to open them, still without success. 

 

Then, finally, the sound of Bella screeching in agony. And after that, complete silence. 

 

Tinsley was frozen. He didn’t know what to do, but getting out of the wardrobe seemed like a good place to start. For the third time that night he tried to push the doors open, which earned him a surprised ”Who the fuck is there?” 

 

”It’s me, back from the dead to haunt you, mr Goldsworth” Tinsley said ”Now get away from the wardrobe, I wanna get out of here” 

 

”Tinman” Goldsworth didn’t even sound surprised, just exasperated ”Why are you in the wardrobe?” 

 

”Had to go somewhere, right? Balcony wasn’t my taste” 

 

Goldsworth groaned, then it sounded like he got up. 

 

”You’re a nightmare. I hope you know that” He said as he opened the wardrobe to let Tinsley out. 

 

”I could say the same to you” Tinsley’s glare went from up at Goldsworth to downwards as he stood up ”Now, what did you do to Bella?” 

 

”What did _I_ do? Why am I the first suspect?” 

 

”Because of her screaming. And you locking me out on a balcony to commit murder in peace” 

 

”Well maybe you should reconsider your opinions on people” Goldsworth brought a hand to his shirt collar and pulled it down slightly, revealing a pair of puncture wounds. They weren’t large, but equally as irritated as mr Bernard’s neck wound had been. Speaking of mr Bernard, he’d been awfully quiet. Tinsley cast a glance towards the bed, and to his surprise found that the hotel owner had fallen asleep again. He was still, with a hand hanging off the bed. In fact, he was too still. 

 

Tinsley hurried to the bed. Mr Bernard was even paler than before, and the towel pressed to the side of his neck had been thrown aside, leaving the wound fully uncovered. It really was similar to Goldsworth’s. Twin puncture wounds, surrounded by not yet dry blood. If anything, mr Bernard’s were worse. 

 

”Jesus fucking Christ” Goldsworth had joined Tinsley by the bed. He didn’t sound shocked, exactly, more like impressed. Tinsley decided to ignore him and instead checked mr Bernard’s pulse. Luckily, he was still alive. His pulse wasn’t high, but it was there. Tinsley backed away from the bed and turned to the open door. 

 

”Did you see where Bella went?” He asked. Goldsworth seemed to consider for a moment before responding. 

 

”I think she headed left, I’m not sure though” He shrugged ”Hey by the way can I ask you a question?” 

 

”You already have. That was a question” Tinsley made for the door and looked outside. No sign of Bella. 

 

”Fine, then two questions. Why do you call her Bella? You’re always calling me by my last name and we’ve known each other far longer” Was Goldsworth hurt? It almost sounded like it, and Tinsley would have found it hysterical had the situation been different. 

 

”Well she told me to call her that” Then again, he’d often declined to refer to someone by their first name even after they asked him ”And I don’t know your first name” 

 

”Well I don’t know yours either. Do you even have one?” Goldsworth picked up a knife from the floor. It was bloody and he nonchalantly wiped it off on the carpet. 

 

”No, my parents were very lazy” Tinsley lied and stepped out into the corridor. 

 

”Liar” Goldsworth whispered and followed him, with a smile on his face, Tinsley noticed when he cast a glance over his shoulder. 

 

The corridor was empty, but there was a trail of blood leading in the direction Goldsworth had claimed Bella went. Tinsley drew his pistol and followed it, with Goldsworth not too far behind. With her being wounded, it should be relatively easy for them to catch up, and Tinsley felt himself tense up the further they went. He spared himself one more glance at Goldsworth, who looked equally serious. His face was set in determination, and his eyes had a dangerous gleam. It made Tinsley glad he wasn’t Bella Doroftei. 

 

The trail rounded a corner and Tinsley stopped for a moment, motioning for Goldsworth to do the same. Goldsworth promptly ignored the command and passed Tinsley with his knife ready. Figuring it’d be no use trying to hide now, Tinsley rolled his eyes and followed Goldsworth, keeping his eyes on the corridor. 

 

It was empty. 

 

And the trail stopped, right in the middle of it, with no signs of where Bella could have gone. Tinsley cursed and crouched down beside the trail’s end. Upon closer inspection, it faded out, rather than stop abruptly as Tinsley had first thought, and including the barely visible blood the trail went on for a bit longer. 

 

”What do you think happened?” Goldsworth asked.

 

”She can’t have gone up in smoke, so she must be somewhere close by. I’d wager one of the rooms” 

 

”Your powers of deduction never fail to amaze me” Goldsworth remarked dryly. Tinsley ignored him and stood back up, quickly looking over the corridor. There were only a few doors close enough for Bella to have gone to without leaving a trail, considering the amount of blood in the corridor. 

 

”If you would be so kind as to check the doors on the right, I’ll take the ones on the left” Tinsley ordered. 

 

”Fine. As a favor to a friend” Goldsworth didn’t waste any time in trying his first door. Locked, by the sound of it. Tinsley refrained from informing Goldsworth that they were _not_ friends, and instead focused on the doors. 

 

The first he tried opened to a seemingly occupied hotel room. Tinsley checked it and found it empty, so he presumed the owner must have forgotten to lock the door. He shut it and moved on to the next. It, and two more were locked, but the fifth door opened. 

 

This room, too, appeared to be empty. Tinsley took a step inside with his gun raised, wary of every corner that someone could be hiding behind. The space behind the bed was empty, and so was the classic hiding spot behind the curtains. Tinsley had just begun to relax when he heard Goldsworth shout. 

 

”Tinsley!” He spun around, and to his surprise found that the corridor was filled with a thin mist, similar to the steam that would form if you showered too hot, for too long. The door opposite him was open, and Goldsworth’s voice had come from inside. Tinsley sprung into action. He hurried across the corridor, blinking against the mist. It stung his eyes and blurred his vision, but he ignored it and finally reached the room. Goldsworth stood inside, his eyes wide and his knife raised against the door. The hand that didn’t hold the knife was at his neck, clutching the wound there. 

 

”What’s going on?” Tinsley asked, but got no response ”Hey! Goldenboy, snap out of it” 

 

”Look behind you you fucking moron” Goldsworth finally spat. Tinsley spun around, and found himself face to face with Bella Doroftei. Her eyes fixed on his and he suddenly felt sick. 

 

”Hello, mr Tinsley” She said. Her voice was smooth as ever, but had an edge to it. She was furious, Tinsley realized.

 

”Bella” He managed to say, and she smiled. It looked like the smile of a hungry wolf, in more ways than one. Behind him, he heard Goldsworth mumble something in a language he didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it sounded upset, which all things considered was pretty fair. Bella took a step forward, and Tinsley instinctively backed. 

 

”Very good” She said, sounding like she was praising a dog ”Back up, detective Tinsley” 

 

Tinsley took another step, and bumped into Goldsworth’s side. 

 

”What are you doing?” He asked, sounding vaguely panicked, which was a first. Tinsley would have made a remark about it, or just answered in general, but found that he couldn’t. All he could do was keep his eyes locked with Bella’s, and follow her order. 

 

He backed until he hit the closed window. Bella followed him until she was well within his personal space. Tinsley could smell her, or rather, feel her utter lack of smell. She leaned closer, until her breath was right above his neck. Tinsley wanted to step aside, but he couldn’t. He could only move backwards, pressing harder and harder against the window. 

 

He got an idea. 

 

It was tight, but he managed to squeeze a hand in between the window and his back and get a firm grip on the lock. It was cold against his hand, and easily turned. The window opened, just as Tinsley felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck and heard Goldsworth yell something. Tinsley ignored both the pain and Goldsworth, and instead grabbed Bella’s shoulders. She seemed to recognize what was about to happen, a little too late. Before she could stop Tinsley, he’d spun the two of them around and pushed Bella backwards. 

 

She reached out and clawed at his arm, catching the sleeve of his suit and yanking him with her so that he hung outside the window, with Bella firmly attached to his arm. She stared up at him, blue eyes piercing him like spears of ice. And she spoke. 

 

”Let go. Come with me” 

 

Tinsley felt his body relax. Felt himself lean forward, about to tip over the edge. 

 

Then a knife hit Bella’s forehead. 

 

She screeched and let Tinsley go. Her pained noise faded as she fell, then was abruptly cut off with a thud. 

 

Tinsley blinked, feeling as though a haze he hadn’t even been aware of had just been lifted from his mind. He stood back up and avoided looking at the body of ms Doroftei, where it lay in the water below him. Once he stepped back inside, Goldsworth immediately shut the window and glared at him. 

 

”That was my favorite knife” He said. 

 

”Sorry” 

 

Goldsworth just grumbled something in response and stomped out of the room. Tinsley was about to follow, when he felt something warm trickle down the side of his neck. He turned to the room’s mirror and to his surprise found that it was blood. It came from two wounds identical to Goldsworth’s and mr Bernard’s, and it had stained the collar of his shirt a deep red. 

 

_She must have bit me,_ Tinsley didn’t dwell too long on the thought. Just tried to scrub some of the blood off with his already ruined shirt as he followed Goldsworth. 

 

That turned out to be easier said than done. The corridor was empty when Tinsley entered it and he sighed. Well, it had seemed like Goldsworth hadn’t been after ms Porter after all since he _had_ gone to- 

 

Tinsley’s eyes widened. 

 

He ran through the corridor, and arrived at mr Bernard’s room just in time to see Goldsworth get off the bed and throw a pillow on the floor with a satisfied look on his face. When he saw Tinsley he just shrugged. 

 

”Had it coming. As per usual. Just ask any of the female staff” 

 

Tinsley suddenly felt sick. It must have shown, because Goldsworth smiled triumphantly. 

 

”Moral high ground, as you put it” 

 

”Yeah, yeah” Tinsley took a deep breath and didn’t take his eyes off Goldsworth as he casually strolled away from the murder scene like it was nothing. Tinsley grabbed his arm as he tried to pass him. 

 

”You don’t think I’m going to just let you go, do you?” He said. Goldsworth looked down at his hand, then shook his head with a smirk. 

 

”It was worth a shot. Good thing I brought this” 

 

Tinsley really should have expected the gun pointed at his chest, but he’d had a very long and exhausting day. He felt like he couldn’t be blamed. 

 

”Don’t follow me, Tinman” Goldsworth’s voice was serious. A warning that Tinsley for once took at its full gravity. 

 

”I won’t” He said ”But do you mind if I ask you a question?” 

 

”I have some time” Goldsworth looked mildly interested ”Go for it before I change my mind” 

 

”I’m not complaining, but wouldn’t it have been a lot easier to just let me go with ms Doroftei out the window?” 

 

Goldsworth was silent. He gave Tinsley a look that was hard to read, but seemed to contain traces of genuine confusion. 

 

”Well” He finally said, pausing before he continued ”I don’t think it’d have been much fun, that’s all” 

 

Tinsley didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing. Goldsworth must have realized he wasn’t going to get a comment, because he started talking again. 

 

”Since you get to ask questions I wanna ask one of my own. Is your name really, _really,_ C.C.?” 

 

”Nope” Tinsley extended a hand ”Carl Clarence Tinsley, nice to meet you…” 

 

”Ricky” Ricky smiled as he took Tinsley’s hand, and Tinsley decided he couldn’t be bothered with more fighting today, so he smiled back. 

 

”This doesn’t mean we’re friends” He felt the need to clarify. 

 

”Duly noted” Ricky let go of his hand and backed out of the door, still with his gun raised ”See you around, Tinman”

 

”You too, Ricky” 

**Author's Note:**

> Can I get a yeehaw for the long awaited sequel? And can I get reviews on the long awaited sequel for reference when writing further sequels??


End file.
